Don't Fall in Love with a Lonely Girl
by PrimaImperatrix
Summary: Oneshot. These rendezvous seem to be becoming a habit. But, it can't last, and the Princess knows that. Ben can make all the smug comments he wants about why she keeps dragging him into darkened alleys and store rooms, but one day he is going to have to admit to himself it is going to end- abruptly, and without warning.


Title inspired by the song by Freedy Johnson.

Yes, yes. I know- posting oneshots when I should be finishing stories. But, when the muse strikes... This just came to me while staring at long load screens while re-playing Fable 3... yes, yes, when I should have been finishing stories. Who are you, my mother?

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><p>Beware the danger of DESERTERS! Cowards, Vagabonds, and Renegades. Know them by this sign.<p>

WANTED. Sir Walter Beck. For the crime of HIGH TREASON.

WANTED. Page. Lunatic and Revolutionary. HIGH TREASON.

WANTED. Ben Finn. Coward and traitor. HIGH TREASON.

The vacant exterior walls of walkways and alleyways had been plastered with these posters for weeks, and yet, no poster bearing her drawing or exclaiming her crimes had been posted. She did not know what angered her more—that Logan thought she was so naïve to have been coerced, and needed her reputation as the Princess protected, or that her believed her so little a threat he would not even waste the paper and adhesive.

The thought fled from her mind as Ben spun her around, pressing her hard against the brick wall she had been distractedly staring at over his shoulder for the last few minutes.

"The Princess of Albion—" he sighed into her neck, his tone remaining smug even in breathy whispers, as he pressed his lips just below the lobe of her ear, "The only girl I know who plots revenge while being seduced."

"I think you just get excited looking at your own wanted poster," she countered confidently.

"Damn right," he agreed confidently, "Have you seen the handsome bastard on that poster?"

A smile spread across the skin of her shoulder as he trailed his kisses down, dragging the neckline of her blouse over her arm. Reaching up with her unpinned arm, she ripped down the poster from behind her head, leaving strips of lingering paper where it had been adhered unevenly in haste, and tossed the scraps to the ground.

He flashed her a smirk, and she replied, "Sorry, I'm the insanely jealous type. I don't like competition."

Seizing him unexpectedly by the collar of his officer's jacket, she hiked a leg around his thigh, pressing her pelvis dangerously against his.

"Bloody tease," he taunted.

"What?" she feigned innocence, "You think I'm just going to let _anybody_ into my throne room? In a filthy alley, no less? I'm the Princess, for God sakes."

"You're a princess like I'm a gentleman," he joked thrusting against her, taking her feet from the ground and propping her against the wall, only thin pieces of fabric separating them, not leaving much to the imagination.

"I bet you say that to all the girls, Captain," she winked as she wrapped her other leg tightly around his other thigh.

"All these titles," he groaned, pulling away to look her in the eyes but roving his hands down her curves, "Princess, Captain, World's Greatest Lover," she rolled her eyes playfully, and he ran his fingertips gingerly along the hem of her trousers, bunching the fabric of her shirt into his palms to gain access to the sensitive skin at the small of her back, "Is status all that is important to you? So what if your blood is royal and mine is… well at this point, it's primarily alcohol, but I digress... Don't you believe in true love?"

"I believe you truly love the sound of your own voice," she provoked, straining to avoid acknowledging the goosebumps dappling her skin.

"Eventually, _your Majesty_, you're going to have to admit the real reason you keep dragging me into darkened alleys and munitions stores."

"Maybe, I'm just ashamed to be seen with you…" she frowned like she was breaking bad news.

"I think we both know I would look dashing in a crown."

"Heavy is the head that wears the crown," she replied, echoing the words of her late father, "He always repeated that to Logan and me," her voice turned serious for a moment, ending their flirtatious banter, "I wouldn't wish that on anyone, Ben."

"Why must you bear that weight alone?" he countered, a little surprised by his own sudden and uncharacteristic gravity.

"The last man who tried to share that weight was crushed beneath it," she reminded him, "And, now I bear his weight too."

"No, love—that weight is Logan's to bear," Ben slid his hands behind her neck, cradling her head and tilting her lips towards his, brushing her left cheek his calloused thumb, "He knew that Logan gave you an impossible choice, and in his eyes you made the right one."

"Precisely, Ben," she inhaled sharply like it was the only thing keeping her from tears, "That is the curse of the crown—to be a lifelong servant to the kingdom, to make impossible choices as habitually a breathing."

"This scandalous rendezvous is becoming entirely too serious for me," he joked trying to break the tension, leaning in to whisper against her cheek, his lips hovering just out of reach, "This is why I prefer my girls dumb and inebriated. You educated, deep thinking types really know how to kill a mood."

Halting his advance with a pressed finger against his lips, she managed, "One day, this will come to an end, Ben—abruptly and without warning, and titles are going to suddenly be very important. I'll be your Queen and you'll be my Major—"

He interrupted, voice partially muffled by her depressed finger, "So, you're going to make me Major, eh?"

"Interrupting," she glared, and he pursed his lips to emphasize he would be quiet, "At some point in our future, you're going to stand across my map table, discussing strategy and tactics, and for the briefest moment, our eyes are going to meet, leaving us each of us wondering what might have been…" she dropped her finger away, and finished with, "Don't fall in love with me, Ben. Don't ever fall in love with those destined to be alone."

Waiting a few seconds in silence he finally asked, "Are you just about done?"

She huffed, sending her loosened strands of brown hair aloft on the air, "You've been warned," she chastised, and titled her lips to meet his, only to be halted herself.

"So have you, love. Here's to following your own advice."


End file.
